


The Collector

by telperion_15



Category: Primeval
Genre: Alternate Canon, Alternate Ending, Captivity, Collections - Freeform, Community: smallfandomfest, Dark, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-10
Updated: 2012-02-10
Packaged: 2017-10-30 22:09:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/336680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/telperion_15/pseuds/telperion_15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leek inspects his collection.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Collector

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for the smallfandomfest prompt 'Leek, for the greater good'.
> 
> Spoilers for episodes 2.06 and 2.07.

  
Standing at the end of the corridor, Oliver Leek surveyed the row of doors that concealed his collection. Although he’d never admit it, he was rather surprised at how well things had come together. Of course, his plans had been laid to be successful, but he’d never expected them to be as successful as _this_. Only one specimen missing, and he didn’t really mind that. Not when the reason for its absence meant that he wouldn’t be receiving any trouble from that quarter. Ever.  
  
He smiled to himself slowly. He had many things to do, particularly now that Helen Cutter had jumped ship (he knew he shouldn’t have trusted her), but he couldn’t resist inspecting his acquisitions. He deserved a little reward for all his hard work, surely?  
  
Gesturing to his two guards to follow closely behind, he stepped forward.  
  
 _Let’s see what’s behind Door Number One…_  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
The door opened smoothly and silently, and Leek halted on the threshold, eyes scanning the tiny room for its occupant.  
  
Professor Nick Cutter was huddled on the floor in the farthest corner, knees drawn up and face buried in the arms that were resting on top of them. It didn’t look the most comfortable of positions, especially since the floor was made of cold, unforgiving concrete, but his unmoving stillness made Leek wonder if he’d fallen asleep.  
  
But then something must have alerted the professor to the fact he was being watched, because his head lifted suddenly, his gaze going unerringly to Leek standing in the doorway.  
  
Others might have flinched, or stepped back in the face of the hatred in those bloodshot eyes, but not Oliver. On the contrary, he found it almost…satisfying.  
  
“Get out.” Cutter’s voice was dripping with venom, but Leek just smiled.  
  
 _Poor Cutter – still thinks he has some kind of authority…_  
  
“Now, now, Professor, that’s not very nice, is it?”  
  
“Get. Out,” Cutter repeated distinctly.  
  
“Ah, but I don’t have to do what you say any more, do I? I don’t have to do what _anyone_ says any more.”  
  
Cutter made a disdainful noise, and turned his eyes away, staring fixedly at the wall opposite him. “So much death and destruction, all so little Oliver can feel important.”  
  
“I can hardly be blamed if poor Stephen decided to be a hero, can I? That was entirely his own decision.”  
  
Now it was Cutter who flinched, his face twisting in momentary pain before he brought himself back under some semblance of control.  
  
“Get out and leave me alone,” he muttered.  
  
“Ah, Professor…”  
  
“I said, _get out_!” Cutter yelled suddenly, half rising from the floor until the abrupt appearance of the guards at Leek’s shoulders made him sink back again, defeated.  
  
“Maybe we should leave our conversation for later,” Leek said considerately. “After all, we have plenty of time.” He signalled to one of the guards as he stepped back, and the man closed the door after him, muffling Cutter’s sobs.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
Jenny Lewis looked somewhat less polished than usual, her hair in disarray and her clothes dirtied and torn. But the look she sent Leek was cool and professional, her only shield against the events of the day.  
  
But Oliver wasn’t fooled. He could still see the fear and doubt lurking in her eyes – she had so many questions that she wanted to ask.  
  
Leek shook his head at her in mock disappointment. “It’s such a shame, Miss Lewis. I really thought we were on the same wavelength at one time. I thought you appreciated my…finer points.”  
  
Jenny couldn’t hide her distaste for that statement, and Leek mentally sighed to himself. He’d never thought of Jenny Lewis in _that_ way – she most certainly wasn’t his type. But how like her to misunderstand his meaning. People always misunderstood him.  
  
That was partly how they’d all ended up in this situation in the first place.  
  
“Where is everyone else?” Jenny asked, her voice admirably steady in the circumstances. She might not be his type, but Leek could still appreciate _her_ finer points. She was a strong woman, despite her fear.  
  
“I have them,” he replied simply, noticing how his words effectively extinguished any hope she might have left. “ _All_ of them.”  
  
“Are they all right?”  
  
“They’re perfectly fine.”  
  
“What are you planning to do with us?”  
  
“Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it?”  
  
“Leek…Oliver…”  
  
Leek recognised her sudden change of tone, and shook his head at her. She should realise she couldn’t get anything out of him _that_ way.  
  
“You’ll find out everything in good time, Miss Lewis,” he said reassuringly. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have the rest of my guests to check on.”  
  
The closing door cut off the rest of her questions, and Leek moved on down the corridor.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
Connor scrambled to his feet as soon as the door opened, firing off questions so quickly as to make Leek’s head spin.  
  
“Where’s Abby? What have you done with her? Where is she?”  
  
 _The same questions again. How dull._  
  
“She’s fine, Mr. Temple. As is Miss Steel, since you _didn’t_ ask.” Leek felt a momentary glimmer of satisfaction at the guilt that flickered across Connor’s face as he remembered his girlfriend.  
  
 _Well, ex-girlfriend now, I suppose._  
  
“Good. If you’ve hurt either of them, I’ll…”  
  
Leek almost laughed, the threat was so pathetic. “I’m sure they’ll both feel so much better, knowing you’re defending their honour,” he said maliciously. “Poor deluded Connor. You really don’t get it, do you? Neither of them cares about you like _that_. Why would they? ‘Shambling adolescent’ doesn’t even begin to cover it, really.”  
  
He smiled pityingly as Connor’s face fell. He hadn’t meant to begin sowing the seeds today, but the opportunity was too good to miss. He’d been impressed despite himself at the way young Temple had managed to hack into his systems. He’d nearly managed to bring down Leek’s whole plan. _Nearly._  
  
Leek could use expertise like that, but first he would have to separate the boy from his team. And from his silly little crush on Miss Maitland. He’d soon learn that there were more satisfying things in the world. More _important_ things.  
  
Then Connor spat at him. But he didn’t even reach Leek’s shoes, and Leek’s stern frown was more than a little mocking. Even Connor’s defiance was pathetic. This would be easy. Almost _too_ easy.  
  
“Manners, Mr. Temple,” he remonstrated mildly. “How disappointed in you Abby would be.” He raised his eyebrows. “I think I’d better leave you alone for a little while, to consider your behaviour. Perhaps after a little while you’ll come to realise that that wasn’t your best course of action.”  
  
Connor’s expression turned frightened as he perceived a threat in Leek’s words. Whether he thought the threat was to himself or to Miss Maitland was unclear. Leek decided it didn’t matter – either would be effective.  
  
Directing a pointed, and slightly regretful, look at Connor, he allowed the door to swing shut.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
The next room held two occupants instead of the usual one, and therefore two pairs of eyes glared balefully at Leek as he stood in the open doorway, one bright blue and angry, the other dark, hostile, and a little bit fearful.  
  
Unfortunately, they were glaring at him from _separate_ corners of the room, and Leek felt a stab of disappointment. It seemed the two women weren’t willing to cooperate in his little scheme to engineer a repeat performance of the afternoon’s…altercation.  
  
He supposed he could force them into it, threaten them with something to make them comply, but that wouldn’t be nearly so much fun as watching a battle fuelled by genuine dislike.  
  
Oh well, you won some, you lost some. Although Oliver wasn’t intending on losing anything else for a _very_ long time.  
  
“Where’s Connor? Is he all right?” Abby’s glare hadn’t faltered even when she’d seen Leek’s guards, and he found himself wondering how it was that the women seemed to have got all the balls in this outfit.  
  
 _But again with the same old questions. A broken gramophone would be more interesting…_  
  
“You’d better let us out of here, or else…”  
  
 _And more threats too? Oh dear…_  
  
“Or else what, Miss Maitland?” he interrupted her, genuinely interested to hear what she would come up with.  
  
“You haven’t captured us all, you know,” Abby replied. “Stephen’s still out there. He’ll help us.” She gave him a triumphant look.  
  
 _Of course. She hasn’t had a chance to talk to Cutter. None of them have. Oh, this is too delicious!_  
  
“I’m so sorry, Abigail, but I’m afraid Stephen won’t be riding to your rescue on this occasion. You see, he’s dead.”  
  
“What? I don’t believe you.” But the tremor in Abby’s voice betrayed her, and Leek smiled.  
  
“It’s true, unfortunately. Professor Cutter could confirm what I’m saying, but since I can’t let you speak to him at the moment, you’ll have to take my word for it.”  
  
There was silence, Abby staring in shock, until Caroline suddenly moved, shuffling across to her and putting an arm round her shoulders.  
  
 _Definitely no repeat performance then. How disappointing._  
  
“Just let us go,” Caroline was saying, her tone pleading. “We won’t tell anyone about this, I promise. Just let us go, _please_.”  
  
“That didn’t work last time, so what makes you think it will work now?” Leek asked. “You’ll have to try harder than that, Miss Steel. A _lot_ harder.”  
  
Two pairs of eyes, now wide and frightened, followed him as he smiled and turned away.  
  
*   *   *   *   *  
  
Leek paused in anticipation outside the final door, savouring the moment. He’d saved the best till last, and he was looking forward to this.  
  
His final acquisition was standing in the centre of the room, ramrod straight, with his hands behind his back. There was no expression on the man’s face, except perhaps the faintest of sneers around the mouth, and the tiniest hint of disdain in the eyes.  
  
Leek ignored all of this and stepped closer – closer than he’d done with any of the others – so he could look the man right in the eye. There was no need to be the snivelling, grovelling little Oliver any more. That time was past. He was the one in charge now.  
  
“If you’ve come to gloat, I can assure you, you won’t get any satisfaction from it.”  
  
He affected surprise. “Why, James, I haven’t come to gloat. I’ve come to _talk_. Surely we can have a civilised conversation? Because I have to confess, I’m sadly disappointed in the rest of my guests in that respect.”  
  
“I have nothing to say to you.”  
  
Lester started to turn away, and Leek resisted the temptation to grab him and pull him back. Physical force wasn’t the way.  
  
But he did allow his voice to harden a touch. “Fine. If you won’t talk, then you’ll listen instead.” He took a breath. “Believe it or not, I didn’t want things to end this way. I had hoped we could work together in this.”  
  
“You tried to have me killed. Remember?”  
  
“That was wrong of me, I realise that now.” There was a tinge of regret in Leek’s tone, even as he smiled at Lester’s turned back. “But I felt I had a point to make, James. I believe you understood it?”  
  
A derisive snort was the only response this time.  
  
“But now you’re here, perhaps we can make a fresh start. We’re in a good position here, James. We can do anything.”  
  
“And what about Helen Cutter?”  
  
“What about her?” Leek could help the flash of anger that darted through him.  
  
“Didn’t she have a hand in this? I was under the impression that you couldn’t have done this without her. That, in fact, it was all her idea.”  
  
The anger grew, and he controlled it with difficulty. He knew what Lester was trying to do, and it wouldn’t work. Still, it always came back to that woman. No one appreciated the amount of work _he’d_ put in. That, in fact, Helen couldn’t have done anything without _him_ , without the resources and finance he’d provided.  
  
Helen Cutter was unimportant now. She was nothing.  
  
“Helen is gone,” he said evenly, proud of how calm he still sounded. “She won’t bother us any more. She won’t interfere with my plans.”  
  
“And what are those, exactly?”  
  
Should he tell? Was it time?  
  
Maybe just the basics. Lester would have to know eventually, after all. If he was to make a decision.  
  
“Everyone will know about the anomalies, and the creatures that come through them,” he said softly. “The secret has been kept for far too long.”  
  
Lester snorted again. “You sound very much like Stephen Hart,” he said. “And he was wrong about that too.”  
  
“Surely you mean the _late lamented_ Stephen Hart,” Leek corrected him.  
  
The raised eyebrow was almost audible, if not visible to Leek. “Indeed. How unfortunate.” And suddenly, Lester turned around, and looked at him. “However, no matter how wrong Mr. Hart might have been, at least he was acting from what he considered to be the best of intentions. Even if those intentions did lead him to Helen. I sincerely doubt _your_ actions are for the greater good. Your good, maybe, but no one else’s.”  
  
“So you believe secrecy is the answer, James?”  
  
“Yes, I do.”  
  
“Well, I’m afraid I can’t agree with you,” Leek replied, shaking his head, disappointed again. “The world _will_ know about the anomalies. You can’t keep them a secret forever.”  
  
“And when the world realises how dangerous and terrifying they really are?”  
  
“Then they’ll turn to me. And I’ll help them.”  
  
“At what price?”  
  
How could Lester still think so little of him? This wasn’t about _money_. “Arrangements will have to made, of course, but I’m sure people will be willing to enter into them in order to gain help. And I _do_ want to help them, James. Something that you never did.”  
  
“So you’ll help them, and in return you think they’ll worship you? Put you in charge? You’re deluded, Leek. This will end badly, and you know it. What happens when something comes through an anomaly that you _can’t_ deal with? What then?”  
  
Shaking his head again and ignoring Lester’s words, Leek moved towards the door of the cell. He was clearly wasting his time here. “What a pity you couldn’t have seen things my way, James,” he said. “I so hoped you could have come around to my way of thinking. I really think we could have made a good team.”  
  
The sneer around Lester’s mouth was no longer faint. “And that would have been your greatest victory, wouldn’t it, Leek? Making me your faithful minion. Well, I’m so sorry to disappoint you, but that’s never going to happen.”  
  
Lester’s derisive, bitter laughter followed Leek out of the room, and as the door shut with a clang of finality, Leek allowed himself to feel a flash of anger again, just for a moment.  
  
It very much looked as if he would be doing this on his own.


End file.
